


Regulars

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asexual Character, I Don't Know Where This Is Going, M/M, Modern AU, Sex Shop AU, frostcap - Freeform, lots of references to sexy things, stoki - Freeform, various other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1516973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wasn't planning on becoming a regular at the nice sex shop in Soho. Until suddenly he was one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have been inspired by spending part of Sunday in London's Soho. Also the one porn film parody title listed is a real thing.

The first time Steve walked into a sex shop, it was in Soho. The New York City Soho, not the London Soho. And he was buying for a friend. 

More specifically, he was buying for Tony Stark, who insisted that Steve didn’t have the guts to go into a sex shop and get Tony a gift for his fortieth birthday. 

Never let it be said that Steve Rogers doesn’t have a sense of humor, Steve thought as he walked into the place. He’d googled which sex shops were the best sex shops. Which seemed weird, but some were creepy and sketchy and Steve thought that Tony, who was rich and smart and successful, would appreciate quality. And Steve liked giving quality gifts. 

The man at the register was tall, thin, and pale with black hair swept into a pony-tail. He glanced up at Steve from what he was reading and then looked back down at his book. Steve said, “Hello” but he didn’t respond. 

Which was fine. Steve didn’t really want to talk to some stranger about Tony Stark’s sexual preferences, let alone his own. 

It occurred to him that he didn’t know what to get Tony. The thing was, Tony was dating Pepper, and Steve thought that perhaps he should get something they could both enjoy. Then he wondered if that was ridiculous, because he wasn’t a couples’ sex therapist or something, and then he thought about getting Tony something for himself. Would Pepper think that was weird? 

He was thinking so much that he didn’t pay attention to where he was in the store and found himself staring at a wall of multi-colored vibrators. Which he didn’t notice, until a cool voice behind him said, “Can I help you?” 

Steve practically jumped. He turned around and saw the man from the counter watching him, now standing a few feet away. The quirk of his lips suggested that he was amused. 

“I’m just browsing,” Steve said. 

“Right,” the man drawled. He had an accent—English, Steve thought. 

He felt suddenly very awkward, alone in this shop. “I’ll let you know if I need anything,” he said. 

The man raised his eyebrows, which made Steve feel like he would start blushing very soon, and then nodded and walked away, which made Steve feel relieved. He turned back to the vibrators and realized that this wasn’t the section he wanted. 

He ended up with the leather whips instead. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other man sitting at the register, reading his book. But Steve felt judged. Maybe if he came back tomorrow, with something in mind, he wouldn’t feel so bad. He could get in, get out, and not look like some lost guy in need of sexual guidance. 

He turned around and walked out the door. He could’ve sworn he heard a cool, English voice say, “Have a lovely day” but he might have imagined it. 

**

“Did you get it?” Clint asked. He was leaning so far forward over the counter that he was practically folded in two. Next to him, Natasha looked amused. 

“Not yet,” Steve said. 

Clint rolled his eyes. “Did you even go?” 

“He went,” Natasha said. 

Steve frowned at her. “How do you know?” 

“You have that post-sex shop visit look,” she said. 

Steve and Clint looked at each other, bewildered. “Can people really tell?” Clint asked. 

“I can,” Natasha said. “So what happened?” 

“I couldn’t decide,” Steve said. “It would be weird. This is just a stupid bet. Not even that—it’s a challenge. I’m only doing it because Tony doesn’t think I can. And because he probably wants something for his fortieth other than another car. Which I can’t even afford. What do you get a rich guy for his birthday, anyway?” 

“Sex toys,” Clint said. 

“What’d you get him last year?” Natasha asked. 

“A watch,” Steve said, “so he couldn’t make excuses for being late all the time. Which is stupid, because he has Jarvis, but, you know.” 

“Get him another watch,” Natasha said. 

“You’re not being very helpful,” Steve said. 

Natasha sighed. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

“I just think getting Tony something from there is weird,” Steve said. “Is it really worth it? I mean, I don’t want to think about him like that.” 

“What if we make it a group gift,” Clint said. 

“So you’ll come with me,” Steve said. 

“Oh, hell no,” Clint said, leaning back. “I’ll chip in some cash, but I’m not going.” 

“My offer still stands,” Natasha said. 

“I’ll think about it,” Steve said. He thought for two minutes. Then, “Yes. Please.” 

“You can pretend you’re a couple,” Clint said. Natasha hit him on the arm and Steve grimaced. 

This challenge was bringing out far too many things he’d rather not think about. 

**

Natasha swept into the sex shop the next afternoon with Steve in tow and headed straight for the section with leather whips. Steve noticed that the man behind the register was the same man as yesterday, and he was giving Steve a highly skeptical look, but when Steve looked back, he merely smirked and buried his head in his book. 

Steve joined Natasha and said, “I really don’t want to think about Tony using any of these.” 

“You don’t have to buy him anything, you know,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t spend all my time in these places, so I wouldn’t know what he’d like. These look fun.” She reached out to examine one of the whips, which was bright red. 

“Can I help you?” said a voice behind them. 

Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

Natasha beat him to answering, turning around with her most pleasant smile. “My boyfriend and I—“ and here, Steve nearly choked, “—are looking for ways to spice up the bedroom. We’re both pretty tame.” Steve almost laughed, thinking about Tony or Natasha being completely straight-laced in bed. And then he almost cringed because no. 

“Ah,” the man said, looking Steve up and down as though sizing him up. Then he looked back at Natasha. “You want something that both of you can enjoy.” 

“Yeah,” Natasha said. “At the same time.” 

“Are you at all visually inclined?” the man asked, and there was a touch of amusement in his voice that never seemed to go away. Steve felt like he was being mocked, somehow. “We have an extensive selection of films.” 

“Do you have the films based off real films?” Natasha asked. 

The man nodded and led them over to a section of parody porn films. Steve saw one entitled “Down On Abbey” and couldn’t help laughing. 

Natasha was holding back a smile. Her eyes scanned the various titles and she said, “I might come back to this. What do you think?” she added to Steve. 

“Um,” Steve said. He thought it was something Tony would get a kick out of, but he was acutely aware that whatever he picked would look like something he liked for himself. 

“We also have couples’ kits,” the man added. “I can show you.” Natasha nodded, and the two of them walked over to a set of shelves by the whips. Steve turned back to the DVDs and decided to distract himself with a game; how many film puns could he recognize? 

He’d gotten six when the man came to stand next to him. Steve looked at him, and the man looked back and said, quietly, “you’re not a couple.” 

“Yes we are,” Steve said, too fast. 

The man shook his head. “I see many people come in. Including couples. Which you’re not. What are you really looking for?” 

“Nothing,” Steve said. He glanced away from the man’s face and his piercing green eyes and noticed a name tag pinned to his button-down shirt. It read “Loki.” 

Steve raised his eyes to Loki’s face. 

Loki grinned at him. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he said. 

“I’m fine,” Steve said. “I’d prefer to browse alone.” He turned around and went to Natasha, who was holding a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. He touched her arm, lightly, and whispered, “we need to go.” 

“What?” Natasha asked. 

“Now,” Steve said, and Natasha replaced the handcuffs and followed him out of the store. 

**

“He was nice,” Natasha said. She was sipping a mug of coffee and browsing the internet, doing research for sex toys that Steve could order online. (“It still counts,” she’d said, “because we were actually in the shop.”) Clint had teased them mercilessly for coming back with nothing. 

“Who?” Steve asked. 

“The guy at the shop,” Natasha said. She looked up at him. “I think he liked you.” 

Steve nearly spit out his own coffee. “What?” 

“Just an observation,” Natasha said. “He was really helpful.” 

“That’s his job,” Steve said, “and actually, he wasn’t.” 

“He seemed to like that you came back.” 

“He was making fun of me the whole time,” Steve said. “In his head. Probably. He said we weren’t a couple.” 

“Oh no,” Natasha said, not sounding at all disappointed. 

“I’m not going back,” Steve said. “Tony doesn’t need any of this stuff.” 

“Clint already gave me cash,” Natasha said. “And so did Bruce. You kind of have to.” 

“Nat—“

“The party’s in a week.”

“Nat—“

“Come on,” Natasha said. “It’s not a big deal. Just get something nice and leave. You never have to go there again. Unless you want to.” 

“I’m not becoming a regular there,” Steve said. 

“You don’t have to,” Natasha said. “But you might if you don’t choose something.” 

She was right.


	2. Chapter 2

“There’s nothing worse than regulars,” Loki said as soon as Steve walked in. There were two other people in the store, but apparently they weren’t regulars because they didn’t react. 

Steve had his sights set on lube. Nice lube. Clint had suggested it when Steve mentioned that he really, really, really didn’t want to purchase anything elaborate for someone other than himself, mostly because it involved thinking in explicit sexual detail of someone he really didn’t want to think of in explicit sexual detail. 

“Lube,” Clint had said, “is a staple of every man’s sex life. And every woman’s. Basically, you don’t even think about the details because it’s like buying someone toilet paper. They just use it.” 

It wasn’t a perfect analogy but Steve went with it. 

“Even worse than regulars,” Loki continued, following Steve, “are regulars who don’t buy anything. How am I to know what you like? Or do you want something that isn’t on the shelves?” 

Steve looked at the lubricants. There were lots of them. Flavored ones. He’d always been a pretty standard type of guy, and now he was faced with choices. Too many choices. 

Loki’s words hit him a few seconds later. “Not on the shelves?” he repeated, incredulous. 

“I hear that flavored is quite nice if you’re doing oral,” Loki said. “Obviously. But perhaps you want something focused more on sensation if you’re doing something else. Flavored won’t help you if your mouth isn’t involved.” His voice was silky, and some how all of this sounded like the sort of dirty pre-sex talk couples would have. Or even non-couples. Just people who were about to have sex. 

“Which is it?” Loki asked. 

“Massage oil,” Steve said, suddenly, noticing a few bottles of the stuff on the top shelf. 

“Foreplay,” Loki said. “Right. Then you’ll want it to be really nice.” He gestured towards a black bottle. “I would recommend this.” 

“How do I know you’re not just steering me wrong?” Steve asked. 

“I would never,” Loki said. “This is my job, and I take it very seriously.” 

Steve eyed the bottle of massage oil, and all the bottles next to it, and the ones below it. There was a very good reason why he hadn’t asked Clint for a recommendation, and another why he hadn’t thought about what he himself liked best, but those reasons seemed distant now when compared to his indecision. 

“You know what,” Steve said. “I might just order it online.” And he turned and walked out of the store. 

**

He didn’t order it online. He came back in the next day with a brand name written on a slip of paper from Clint, and another brand name written in neater handwriting from Natasha. Natasha’s was actually massage oil, so he felt less weird about that. 

“There are advantages to seeing a product in person,” Loki said. 

“Are you the only employee?” Steve asked, irritated. He was even more irritated when Loki sauntered over to where Steve was looking at the oils, like he thought he was wanted. 

“Times are hard,” Loki said. 

“I’m sure this wasn’t your career ambition,” Steve said. 

Loki licked his lips. “And if it was?” 

“How does that make your parents feel?” 

It was a joke, but Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, clipped. Steve felt like he’d touched a nerve; the whole room suddenly went cold. He wanted to say something, but in the time it took him to realize that he might have gone too far, Loki had already made his way back to the register and was reading his book. 

Steve turned back to the display, feeling somewhat uneasy. But without someone making suggestions, he felt free to pick up the bottle of massage oil from the brand Natasha suggested. He read the back, which had a very sensual description of how the oil worked, and satisfied, he took it to the register. 

Loki looked surprised at the bottle on the counter. “You’re actually buying something,” he said. 

“Why else would I be in here?” Steve asked. 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Some men come in here with propositions.”

Steve opened his mouth. Then closed it. He managed to choke out, “You thought I wanted to sleep with you?” 

“So you don’t?” Loki said. 

“Why would you—?”

“You’ve come in multiple times without buying a thing,” Loki said, “and when you finally buy something, it’s massage oil. You enlisted a woman who wasn’t your girlfriend to help you. All of this was suspicious.” 

“It’s for a friend,” Steve told him. Now that he said it out loud, it felt ridiculous that he’d gone through all the charades of pretending it wasn’t. 

Loki smirked. “A friend. You’re buying a friend massage oils? What bet did you lose?” 

“It wasn’t a bet,” Steve muttered. “Look, can I just buy this and leave?” 

“Why would you go into a pleasure shop to buy something for anyone other than yourself?” Loki asked. “You’ll get nothing out of this. Your friend won’t even tell you how good this massage oil is.” 

“Good,” Steve said. “I don’t want to know.” He pushed the bottle forward. 

Loki sighed. “You should at least try it out before giving it to this friend.” 

“I was recommended it by another friend,” Steve said. “I’m sure it’s good.” 

“You wouldn’t know for yourself,” Loki pointed out. 

“I don’t need to,” Steve snapped. “What, are you suggesting I try it here in the store?” 

Loki licked his lips. “We have a back room,” he murmured. 

“I am not testing that stuff out in your back room,” he said. 

“My flat, then,” Loki said. 

The suggestion came out so casually that it was more surprising than if Loki had been surprised himself. But he just threw it out there, and Steve’s jaw dropped. 

“Is this a thing you do?” he asked. “Just invite random strangers to your apartment?” 

“You’re a regular,” Loki scoffed. “I’m doing you a service.” 

“You are not,” Steve said. “Why—okay, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.” 

“It’s massage oil,” Loki said. “Not sex oil.” 

“Are you hitting on me?” Steve asked. He was only passable at detecting that sort of thing. 

“Am I?” Loki asked. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t even know my name.” 

“It’s Steve Rogers,” Loki said. 

“How—?”

Loki gestured to the wallet on the counter, which was open, with Steve’s license exposed. Steve had forgotten he’d taken it out. “So,” he said, “will you take my offer? It’s a slow day. I can leave when I like.” 

Steve was about to say no when he thought about the many times Natasha had tried to set him up, and Steve had made excuses for why the match wouldn’t work, or why he couldn’t go out that day, or why he wasn’t in the place for a relationship at the moment. Natasha would kill him for letting this opportunity pass by. 

He got made fun of enough for making boring choices when it came to relationships. It was because of Peggy. He should have moved on, but…

Perhaps this was his chance. Something completely on a whim, with a complete stranger who wasn’t set up by a friend. 

“Fine,” Steve said. “Now, can I pay for this?” 

Loki rang him up, and closed the store. 

And as he led Steve through the streets of Soho, Steve thought that he might be in trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates! This past month, and the next six weeks, are going to be extremely busy with my masters program. So if you're wondering about lack of updates for this and a few other fics, that would be why. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

Loki’s apartment was small, and he lived alone, and there were no personal things like pictures of family or friends or handwritten letters or homemade blankets or any of the other things Steve associated with an apartment well-lived in, furnished with a person’s past and present. There were no trinkets from previous relationships. Everything looked clean and modern and sparse. 

Except for the books. Loki kept a lot of books. 

And there were notebooks. Loki kept a lot of those, too. 

Steve sat in the living room while Loki poured them wine in the kitchen. He came back and handed a glass to Steve, then slid into the space next to him and said, “I’ve been told I have talented hands. Shall we put that to the test?” 

Steve nearly choked. Loki smirked over the rim of his glass and added, “I’m talking about massages. You have quite the dirty mind, Steve Rogers.” 

“When you say things like that,” Steve said, “the way you say them—“

“How do I say them?” Loki asked. 

“Like—“ No. Steve wasn’t going there. He took a gulp of his wine—it wasn’t enough to get him drunk, not even close, but he didn’t care. He wished it would. Loki had almost finished his glass and was still smirking. “Why did you invite me here?” 

“To test out your product,” Loki said. 

“You don’t do that with everyone,” Steve said. “Why me?” 

“Because you’re a regular,” Loki said, “and you’re interesting. So few people are interesting.” 

“I’m not a regular,” Steve said. He placed the wine glass on the coffee table. “I was challenged to get something for a friend and was too caught up in worrying about what to get to just get it. So I kept coming back.” 

“You’re determined,” Loki said. “Most people would simply order what they wanted online and be done with it. How many pleasure shops have you been in, Rogers?” 

“Are you really asking me that?” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t even—look. I just want to put this out there. It’s been a long time since I’ve been intimate with anyone and I don’t want this to just be a—a—hookup. I don’t do hookups.” 

“Define hookup,” Loki said. He placed his empty glass next to Steve’s and tilted his head to the side, listening. 

“You know what a hookup is,” Steve said. “And I don’t want that. I can’t do that. But I’m not sure if I can do anything else.” 

Loki nodded, once. Sharply. “You want a relationship.” 

“I—I don’t know what I want. But I don’t want this to be the sort of thing where you never talk to me again,” Steve said. 

One of Loki’s hands was playing with the hem of his shirt. “I will talk to you again,” he said after a moment. “I can’t promise anything else. I would also like to point out that I am not having sex with you tonight.This is not what you might call a hookup, not in the traditional sense. We are simply trying your massage oil.” He leaned forward. “You look tense. When was the last time you relaxed?” 

Well, Steve was fresh out of a stint in the Middle East. He was trying to adjust to life in the States again. He was trying to concentrate more on his art. Peggy was gone. His art didn’t come as easily as it used to. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. 

“Take off your shirt,” Loki commanded, standing up. “We shall remedy this.” 

Steve obeyed. It was hard not to. Loki could sound quite regal when he wanted to, and Steve wondered where that came from, whether one could learn that sort of thing from working in a sex shop or whether it came from some other part of Loki’s life. Steve realized he didn’t know anything about Loki outside of the sex shop, and he said so. 

“I could say the same of you,” Loki pointed out. “Lie down.” Steve laid himself on the sofa and Loki moved, straddling him. Steve made a noise and Loki added, “Relax.” 

“You know about me,” Steve said. “You know who my friends are.” 

“Ah yes, the mysterious red haired woman,” Loki drawled. Steve heard the click of the bottle opening. “What do you do for a living, Rogers?” 

“I, um, am kind of an artist,” Steve answered. 

“Kind of?” Loki said. “I’m not sure of your meaning.” 

“I was in the army,” Steve said. “Just got back from the Middle East. I’m adjusting. I also like to draw. I studied fine arts.” He felt the slight, delicate touch of a hand on his back. At first the oil, and Loki’s hands, felt cold, but they warmed quickly as Loki began rubbing the oil into his skin. Loki’s long fingers worked their way into Steve’s muscles. It felt delicious. 

“A soldier,” Loki murmured. “You do look like one. But an artist? What do you draw?” 

“Landscapes,” Steve said. His voice had gone quiet. He felt sleepy, his muscles forced into relaxation by Loki’s hands. “People I know.” An image of Loki came to mind, sketched. Loki would make a good subject. He didn’t say so. “What about you?” 

“I studied massage therapy,” Loki said. 

“That’s not true,” Steve said. 

“Does it matter?” Loki asked. “What I studied is of no consequence. I am serious about my work now, Rogers. About the present. And presently, I believe I am doing my job well.” 

“You are,” Steve sighed. He closed his eyes, imagined he could see Loki’s hands working on his back, trailing along his skin. He took a deep breath. 

“You like it,” Loki whispered, his mouth suddenly right next to Steve’s ear, so he could feel the whisper of air when Loki spoke. 

Steve groaned. “I do,” he said, and he turned over, nearly upending Loki in the process, but Loki was sharp and didn’t fall. Instead he repositioned himself, leaned forward and pinned Steve to the sofa before he could sit up. They stayed like that for a moment, bodies parallel, staring into each other’s eyes. Loki’s face was pale, a wicked little grin curved his lips, and his eyes—they were unreadable. 

Steve arched up and pressed his mouth to Loki’s, and Loki returned the kiss. One of his arms encircled Steve’s neck, hand playing with Steve’s hair, and the other kept his full weight off Steve, so that their lips and Loki’s fingers in Steve’s hair were the only things touching. Steve attempted to pull Loki down, but Loki pulled away, breathing hard, lips redder than they had been before. 

“I thought this wasn’t a hookup,” he said. 

It had been so long. “Please tell me it isn’t,” Steve said. 

“It isn’t,” Loki said. He sat up and gave Steve a scrutinizing look. 

“I want this,” Steve said. “I like you, and if you want to, I’d like to, I don’t know—“

“Are you asking me out?” Loki said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I—yes.” Steve felt suddenly small at the center of Loki’s piercing gaze. 

Loki stared at him. “You hardly know me,” he said. 

“You’re smart,” Steve told him. “You’re charming, to a point. Good with your hands.” He sat up as well. “If you don’t want to do this the first time around, that’s fine. But please tell me this wasn’t a one time thing.” 

“It isn’t,” Loki said, quietly. 

Steve smiled at him, and then reached for his shirt. “I can go, if you want.” 

“What I want,” Loki said, “is to see you tomorrow at the shop. After you’ve thought this through.” 

Sleep on it. It was good advice. Steve had gotten that advice a lot. He pulled the shirt over his head and stood up, slipping on his shoes. Loki stood with him. “I’ll think about it,” he said. 

Loki nodded and led him to the door, which he opened. Steve turned just before the moment when Loki should have shut the door behind him. Loki closed the distance between them and gave him a light kiss. When Steve pulled away, he sighed. 

“Something about me,” Loki murmured. “I don’t have sex.” Then he pulled away and shut the door. 

Steve stepped back, taking a deep breath. Out in the hallway, it was as if a spell had been broken. Normal life had begun again. 

And the sex shop worker didn’t have sex. That was new. 

Steve went home to sleep on it.


End file.
